The Daylight
by onewritergirl93
Summary: Just another 7x10 post-ep fic. My first foray into the Suits fandom, so please let me know what you think! Title is from the song of the same name by Andrew Belle. It came on randomly as I wrote and was the perfect description of what I'm going for.
1. Chapter 1

Harvey Specter was wearing jeans.

Granted, they were two-hundred dollar jeans from Neiman-Marcus that he'd worn a total of three times since Donna, who said wearing them would make him more "approachable" and had been appalled when he wore them as loungewear in his apartment, had insisted he buy them six years ago. But they were still made of _denim_.

If that wasn't indicative of his frayed mental state, he didn't know what was.

The thought flitted through his mind at an inopportune moment, as he was was already stepping off the elevator at Pear - ehm, _Specter Litt._ The name had finally changed on the wall, but his mind had yet to catch up. It had been otherwise occupied with memories of a certain redhead.

Images flashed in his head for the millionth time. _Donna, perched on the window sill as he entered her office and then, she wasn't anymore. She was close, closer and her lips…_

He shook his head. This was exactly what he came here to avoid. Donna was the reason Harvey had come into the office at 4:17 a.m., wearing jeans. He'd like to think he'd have the good sense _not_ to wear jeans to work during the day, but he couldn't really be certain of anything after three nights of minimal sleep and excessive self-reflection mixed with alcohol. It was that dangerous cocktail that prompted his outing tonight.

Another day spent avoiding Donna, passing messages through Mike or Louis like they were third graders with a crush (or had sworn each other as enemies), had led to another night clutching a bottle of Macallan 18 - which, although it was always his drink of choice, just made him think of her even more. Instead of wrestling with his thoughts in his now-empty bed until the sun came up, Harvey had decided he'd try to find distraction here, maybe with the added bonus of getting some work done.

He wandered down the dim halls, making his way from memory and by the light of a million tiny skyscraper windows shining outside of the glass walls.

Around the corner, Donna's desk - or what used to be her desk, which now sat empty - came into view. Harvey felt a sharp twist in his stomach, even as his mouth tugged in a small smile. He was immensely proud of her, of the way she fought to get where she was now, but he missed her. Even before the events of the past week, before Paula, he had felt Donna slipping from his life. The panic that stirred in him (and his instinct to avoid it) was what likely pushed him toward his former therapist in the first place, but that was a beast to conquer another day.

A sigh escaped his lips. He missed the days when he could look up from his desk and see Donna sitting at hers. She could always sense his eyes on her and would smile back at him. Those silent hellos were his favorite pastime. Things seemed simpler then, even if it was just a carefully-executed act to keep the truth from surfacing. Now, a literal wall separated them during the day, a devastating reflection of the figurative one that had been building between them for months now.

Harvey's thoughts and his steps came to an abrupt halt.

Lost in the turmoil swirling inside his own head, he hadn't noticed the soft glow of light coming from Donna's side of their shared wall until he was at his own door. _She was here. Had she heard him coming? Should he leave?_ Frozen at the thought of facing her without the distractions of the workday, Harvey did nothing. Blood rushed in his ears and he felt his pulse radiating all the way to his fingertips. This was ridiculous. He shouldn't be on the verge of a panic attack. It was _Donna,_ for crying out loud.

Seemingly of their own free will, his feet carried him backward. From this new angle, Harvey could see into Donna's office. _This is a new low_ , he thought, hoping that the shadows would conceal him, _not to mention creepy_. But it was as if his feet were anchored to the carpet and he couldn't look away if he tried. He just wanted a moment to observe, to watch her without the painfully awkward civility that had permeated their interactions in recent weeks. It had been too long since he'd truly _seen_ her.

Donna had also opted for a casual look, which made sense given the time of this unplanned meeting, and she pulled it off much better than he did. While he'd paired his designer jeans with a dark grey Henley, a white undershirt and preppy loafers which were hardly "comfy", she wore black leggings, a dark purple tunic-length tee-shirt and a grey sweater with one of those big, turn-down collars that made it look half-blanket, half-sweater. Her bright red hair was pulled into a messy bun, something he had never seen before but judging by the way his heart flip-flopped in his chest, he wouldn't mind seeing again. She was beautiful and she actually looked comfortable, which probably spoke to her ability to loosen up that didn't come as naturally to him. Donna was sophisticated, but he had always admired (and even envied) her ability to be silly.

Something was off, though. There was a sluggishness to her movements, like a literal weight pressed down on her shoulders, as she turned toward the small personal printer in the corner. She stared down with her arms crossed tightly around her body as papers were fed through the machine. One shaky hand came up to swipe under her eye and Harvey nearly doubled over as a wave of pain washed over him.

 _She was crying._


	2. Chapter 2

Donna Paulsen was not wearing mascara.

She thanked her lucky stars for this small kindness as she ran the back of her finger under her eye, catching the tears before they could travel down her cheek. The last thing she needed was to look like a raccoon. Not that it mattered, really. She was the only one in the office, the only one crazy enough - desperate enough - to venture out in the middle of the night. Thank God Harvey isn't here. A fresh wave of emotion threatened to choke her at the thought of having to explain herself if she were caught in the act.

Her breath stuttered in her chest.

Maybe it was better to get the tears out now. It made this whole thing a little more real, to face the feelings head-on.

 _Unlike sneaking into the office after hours to write your resignation letter and leave it on your boss's desk._

Donna's lips trembled. It was the coward's way out, but it was the only one she felt capable of. Because he wasn't her boss. Not anymore, and he hadn't been just her boss in a long time. Maybe not ever.

He was _Harvey_. Her best friend, the one she'd given up everything for in the past dozen years. He challenged her and comforted her, fought for her and fought with her. He was the one person in the world who made her blood boil and her heart race in equal measure. He was her person. How could she look the man she loves in the eye and tell him she was leaving him?

 _Again. But this time for good._

It had nearly broken him last time and, and as devastating as the past three days had been, she knew her own heart. It would rebel at the sight of him. It would beg her to stay, even if he never did.

More tears fell, but she didn't bother catching them. She just _had_ to go and kiss him. She would ask herself what she'd been thinking, but Donna knew. She _hadn't_ been thinking, she had been feeling. For the first time in too long, she had ignored the voice in her head that kept her from acting. Kept her from rocking the boat, tipping the precarious balancing act they'd perfected over the ears, breaking her stupid "rule". The voice that kept her from kissing him _every_ time he walked into a room had been drowned out by Louis' voice talking about soulmates and second chances.

It wasn't that she regretted the kiss. She didn't. Not only had it felt like the truest thing she'd done lately, but it had served its purpose - now she _knew_. And if she was honest, it had been a great kiss - on her end, anyway. _Short, but in those last few seconds when he relaxed and leaned forward…_ A shiver ran through her at the memory, but the chill reached her bones at the others flooding her mind.

 _Pulling away just as he leaned in because she knew he'd only hate himself more for that. The look of utter….disappointment that settled in his eyes after the confusion faded away. Knowing what he thought of her, of himself and of them in that moment and every moment following. The way he hadn't so much as looked at her in three days, sending Mike or Louis as a go-between when business required it._

Back in the present, the printer in front of her spit out the last of the pages she was waiting for. Gathering them in her hands, she tapped them on top of the printer to align them before turning toward the desk to add her handwritten signature to the bottom of the first page. _That personal touch should make up for the rest of it,_ she thought wryly.

In her peripheral vision, she saw a large, dark silhouette looming in the hall. Her heart stopped. As soon as her head turned toward the figure, it was coming through the glass door. Donna bit back a scream as the papers in her hand scattered to the floor.

In the split second it took him to come into her office, her brain processed what she was seeing - and it hit her like a freight train. _Harvey_ _._ Before she could stop him, he was crouched beside her, gathering the fallen pages faster than she could grab them. Donna could see his mouth moving as he uttered apologies and _"It's me's"_ when he took in her still frozen state, but she couldn't seem to hear him. It felt like her ears were full of water as the blood rushed behind them.

 _It wasn't supposed to happen like this._

Harvey's hand on her arm broke Donna out of the trance-like state. Her own arm shot out to grab the papers from him wordlessly and a little too forcefully. His eyebrows furrowed, both at her silence and her odd behavior. He glanced down at the papers now held in a tight-gripped tug-o-war between them.

His eyes scanned the paper and, as if it connected them psychically as well as physically, Donna could feel the fight drain from his body. His face, which had first been twisted in tight concern, melted in defeat and...something she couldn't define, but she swore his color faded a few shades. His mouth went slack and the first noise her ears registered was the breath leaving his body in a soft, _"No..."_

As if it were playing in slow motion, she could see the exact moment it hit him.

 _She was leaving._


End file.
